


Joker (HeathLedger!) x Reader - Love At First Sight

by TheJokersEnigma



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Based in Dark Knight Movie universe, F/M, Heath Ledger Joker - Freeform, joker x reader - Freeform, random idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-04 18:23:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJokersEnigma/pseuds/TheJokersEnigma
Summary: The reader was a detective at the MCU the night the Joker escaped from the interrogation room, blew up the room, then escaped with Lau. After the briefest of interactions with the infamous Joker, she feels… different and is haunted by their meeting. One year on, and the Joker has finally broken out of the Asylum.





	1. Part 1

The Joker. Escaped from Arkham Asylum.

That was the news you woke to that morning. What you were supposed to feel about this, you honestly weren’t sure.

You sat on your sofa that morning, pretty numb as it hit you. For some reason, all you could think of was the conversation you remember when you still spent most of your time in the MCU, briefly after the psychopathic clown criminal was captured by the elusive bat vigilante. The officers and detectives had been taking bets on which came first – the Joker’s escape from the asylum or his death. There were also bets taken on the time span of these events.

From some reason, in that very moment - as the news anchor informed you of the limited details known of the breakout - all you could think of was the amount of money likely to be exchanging hands today over this change in events.

Because that was all it was to you. A change in events of the world around you. It didn’t affect you at all right? So, the ‘Joker’ has escaped, so what?

This ‘Batman’ hero would just find and capture him again, right? He knew what he was dealing with this time, surely? So, it would easier for him – quicker? And what did it really matter to you anyway, hm? Gotham was a big city, chances were, you’d be nowhere near the man or schemes. Maybe you could take some time off work and place yourself under house arrest just to make sure? Why in God’s name would the insane clown criminal have any reason on Earth for being anywhere near your apartment block, after all?

The truth was, you had met this ‘Joker’ man once before - back when he had briefly been captured by the GCPD and held at the MCU. Your interaction had been short, no words swapped between the two of you, but it was something that singed into your brain in more than just memory.

Something that night had changed in you - thanks to the Joker, you were sure, though unable to intelligibly offer any explanation as to what these changes were or why they happened.

No, you were just… different.

And now you weren’t sure what would happen if you saw the murderous clown again – but you didn’t think it could possibly be good. In fact, you practically feared your own body and your lack of control of it where the man was concerned. Sure, your mind was rightfully terrified of the insane criminal, just like any other sane human, but you also couldn’t help yourself somehow being ridiculously fascinated by the man. Something about him pulled at your chest, your heart panging whenever you heard his name in the past year – be it in connection with the man, or simply referring to the card from a game. The word ‘Joker’ always had your head snapping up and heart accelerating.

One person might call it hope, another might call it fear, but you personally knew it wasn’t that black and white. He was the man that held your thoughts without even trying, he was the man that ruined your career - unable to trust yourself to continue in your previous position within the GCPD after you had begun to feel the poison that was the Joker seeping into your thoughts and decisions – he was the one that managed to worm his way into your head with just a wink in your direction.

The clown’s mug shot appeared on the screen now, your body’s reaction to this image on confirming what you were already sure you knew – the Joker’s firm grip on you was still there – both on your heart and brain – and the year since you encounter hadn’t managed to diminish anything.

You took your own advice for once after that, taking a few days off whilst you waited for the Jokers to be apprehended again. You couldn’t trust yourself was the simple reason - you were almost scared of yourself and what you might do. But after several quiet, uneventful days trapped in your apartment, you were becoming antsy and feeling the strong urge to return to your job just to keep yourself sane.

In particular, however, you could feel the Major Crime Unit calling you.

You hadn’t been back to that building since you had left a couple weeks after the explosion that had racked it, killing numerous officers and allowing the Joker to escape. You had forced yourself to resign your position of detective after that, especially when you began to notice the effect the Joker seeping through your system slowly like poison, sticking deep and warping you from the inside out. You had needed a job that meant less scrutiny into your behaviour, where one could bend the rules slightly and get away with it, or never have any need to bend the rules. Tough decisions were a no go for you, you had become too cold and ruthless, too willing to try something unconventional just to see what could happen… So that was how you found yourself in your current position, still a cop, yes, but demoted to only the more rookie duties like traffic duty and patrols which had you largely just wandering the streets. This kept you far away from the MCU, and, therefore, far from the vivid flashbacks of that night and the clown that came with it.

Now, however, the MCU was calling you back – probably thanks to the Joker’s resurgence – but a large part of your mind was trying to convince you one little visit would be fine. It1 was hardly a dangerous place to be after all, not with the sheer the numbers of detectives and officers that would be swarming around the building. You could go under the pretence of catching up with old friends, but you couldn’t really trick yourself. You  _wanted_  to see the Joker. The MCU and your flashbacks was the closest you could get to it – from there, the memory that had faded over the past year, would be refreshed and stronger.

It had been a year after all. You could surely allow yourself this?

There had been no news of the Joker so far. No capture, but no incidences either. He was clearly laying low for a bit, either to get off the cop’s radar or to spend time scheming – likely both. It would be smartest to stay home – who knew when or where the Joker would strike next – but the longer you stared here, the more impatient and pent you were becoming, taken to pacing in your small flat. If you didn’t leave soon you were more likely to do something reckless. You needed an outlet for your mind and energy. Wandering the streets on your job often helped and you certainly weren’t used to this much confinement.  

The sane part of you continued to protest leaving the house, though anxious of your condition, but the other part of you whined and pulled to be let off the lead - to be allowed to put yourself at as much risk as possible to get even a glance of the man that had seeded it - even if that meant you would receive a bullet to the skull shortly afterwards.

As was becoming all too common recently, you found your more questionable side stronger, drowning out your other voice, it’s arguments all sounding sane and reasonable to you. It would be fine after all, you would just walk to the MCU – stretching your legs in the meantime – then chat randomly for a bit with people you barely knew, get a hit of that flashback you desperately needed, before you came straight home.

That fresh air should see you for a few more days anyway and re-strengthen your more saner side.

Having somehow convinced yourself, you waste no time in grabbing a coat and allowing your legs to carry you the, still familiar, walk to the Major Crimes Unit. Surely, the Joker wouldn’t attack the same place twice after all? It turned out that the MCU clearly wasn’t as convinced about this as you were, finding that they had at least doubled their security after his escape. Despite this, everyone that recognised you greeted you warmly, several of them hinting that they missed you and you ought to return to work. You brushed these all off with maybes and fake laughs. In particular the Commissioner, Jim Gordon, seemed pleased to see you again. You had always admired Gordon, his work ethic and inability – unlikely you it seemed – to be corrupted by anything. He was such a strong brick wall of a man you were sure, if you ever saw him crumble, it would surely be the end of the world.

He was the last person you would confess your inner thoughts to of course – your worries over the opposing voices in your head, the toxins in your mind. He’d been the most disappointed when you’d removed yourself from position of detective, rumours had been circling he wanted to mentor you to take his place as Captain and even Comish eventually. All coffee break rumours, but at the time it had meant a lot to you. Now it just left you with a heaviness in your heart to know that would never be possible now.

You almost found yourself enjoying your time back amongst your old colleagues, being filled in on the gossip you didn’t usually care about but now you seemed to find so interesting. You still couldn’t deny the reason you were here though, and nothing could quite compare to that rush that hit you when you walked into the main bull pen area once more, your heart skipping slightly at the familiar scene. You could practically see the Joker stood before you, his hair falling over his face where he stood in the aftermath of the explosion, papers and ash falling around him, exactly as you had seen him when you had glanced up from your sprawled position on the floor. He still had the small knife in one hand – he one that had been at his hostage’s neck – the mobile phone clasped in the other. He lifted his head slowly, his face blank and uncaring for the carnage around him, then his eyes caught yours where you had been pulling yourself to your feet with the aid of a half-shattered desk. In that moment he could have killed you by the knife in his hand or one of the pistols at his feet next to bodies that lay prone. Your eyes met the ghost’s own green ones again, noting how his lightly singed shirt clung to his upper arms, the top two buttons of his shirt open and exposing his throat. The night around him cast even darker shadows around his eyes and empathised his cheek bones, his pale face occasionally being illuminated by the broken electric cables that flashed intermittently behind him. Even in only a dream-like state, he was enough to stop your breath, your chest aching painfully at the sight of him there, handsomely dishevelled.

He haunted you, there was no denying it.

And you hated it. But you loved it.

It was stupid how a couple of minutes of your life could follow you for so long and still be so vivid in your subconscious after a year, not detail a miss, like your mind’s eye had purposeless decided to record the interaction in HD and not miss a single frame.

“You alright, kid?”

“Hm?” You snapped your head sideways to where Gordon had walked up next to you, clearly concerned by the look on your face. “Um – no – yeah – I’m – I’m fine.” You stammered, shaking your head slight, feeling a slight film of sweat already on your skin.

“You’re worried about this ‘Joker’ character, aren’t you?” He said, now stepping back, placing a hand on the desk directly behind him as he perched himself on the edge of it, studying you and reminding you of a worried father for a moment. “I know you – uh- struggled with – with what happened that night _.”_ You nodded slightly at this – if only he knew. “This place… It reminds you of him, doesn’t it?” He observed.

“A little.” You admitted, glancing back out across the room again, your mind now watching the Joker’s eyes meet yours again, carefully raising a single gloved finger to his vibrantly red lips in a silent ‘shushing’ gesture, his other fingers on that hand still wrapped around the knife. “But I also kind of miss it.” You confessed, into the room, your voice almost croaky with emotion as your mind’s eye now watched the Joker move out of the room, through the door that led towards the holding cells.

You swallowed thickly, and Gordon studied your eyes, aware that you were seeing something he couldn’t. “We’d always love to have you back, [Y/N], you truly were a great detective.” He told you gently, his moustache lifting with the small, half-hearted smile. “You really could go places.” He insisted kindly.

“Thanks, Jim.” You murmured, now watching the Joker walk back into the room, a tight grip on the collar of the mob boss, Lau, who had looked a lot worse for weak, covered in durst and debris from the explosion, and looking worn and tired with bags under his eyes. “I’m just not sure…” You sighed quietly, your eyes still staring off into space to Gordon.

“Different things take their toll on people in different ways.” Gordon murmured almost softly, now getting to his feet again, “That clown has scarred a lot of people deeply – never think you’re alone in that.” He urged. “We lost a lot of good men and women that night, including Rachel and Dent.” He muttered solemnly, dropping his eyes for a moment. “But, rest assured,” He said muttered, now glancing back up to you again, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “You can always find support here.” He promised.

Your glanced back out into the room again where the Joker had paused, briefly glancing over at you as well, sending you that wink, his face otherwise completely serious. Without a word, he then turned his back on you and walked out of the MCU doors as an officer in real life walked through. You knew what happened next, the dull roar of an engine to life, the sound of sirens that then roared off into the distance as the Joker stole a cop car as a getaway vehicle. When a siren did suddenly begin wailing though, you jumped in fright, your heart racing almost uncontrollably.

“That’s the wheeler case.” Gordon muttered next to you, noticing your skittishness, but not completing understand the reason behind it. “I’d better get on that.” He confessed before gruffly clearing his throat. “Take care of yourself, kid. And, don’t forget, there’s always a place here for you, if you ever choose to come back.” He said with a small, reassuring smile which you returned with as much gratefulness as you could muster despite knowing if would probably never happen. The Commissioner nodded one more time in farewell, then headed off behind you, leaving you alone with your ghosts.

You allowed the memory to play out a few more times as you stood there, no one interrupting you really this time, busy with their own work. You relished the in the Joker’s presence, kidding yourself it was enough you to just have that scene forever. And you would have it forever, you knew that, even if the Joker died tonight and you never saw him again, that scene would still live on, you knew it. It haunted you. Not because you didn’t do anything to stop the madman, not because you lied to your colleagues when you helped them up as they began to come around – claiming to just have been the first to rouse – but just because of  _him_. The fact that something,  _something_ , made that clown get to you the way no one ever had. You couldn’t explain it, but you had a sinking feeling there was no way back from this.

If you didn’t know better, you’d call it love at first sight.


	2. Part 2

You left a short while after, savouring the stroll home, knowing you would now be locked back up in your flat until the coast was clear. You were soon lost in thought, mind still left back at the MCU.

You wanted to go back if you were honest with yourself.

You did enjoy the work, and definitely preferred it over the menial tasks you were charged with now, but mostly – you couldn’t deny it – you missed seeing the mysterious ‘Joker’ man, even if he was just a fiction of your imagination.

It was ridiculous really, how much he had changed you with a simple glance. Even when his eyes pierced you only in your memories, you could feel his poison seeping into your mind again, feeding into your brain cells, making you question what was right and wrong, only too aware you stood in the MCU and the number of classified items you still had access to. The sane part of you was petrified about this, the other side of you was thrilled and often far more overpowering.

You couldn’t help feeling much like an adrenaline junkie, continually seeking out your ‘hits’ of the Joker - at the moment only from the memories - but you feared one day you would want more, more than just your colourful imagination, and that might just get you killed.

That never seemed to stop you from you counting down to your next hit though. 

You had reached the front door of you flat now and you pushed the door open with a heavy sigh, not sure what to do with yourself, dropping you bag onto the nearest surface absentmindedly as you headed towards your bedroom door opposite.

“Ah!” You heard an exclamation from your right, “The prodigal child returns at last!” You froze as he spoke, glancing out of the corner of your eye towards where he stood in the kitchen. Had you finally lost it? Gone so loopy with all the circling of your thoughts on the Joker, that you’d finally cracked and now even begun hallucinating the clown stood amongst the kitchen counters. Because that’s where he was, stood within the tiled section of your flat, helping himself to a few grapes from a tub of them you’d left out on the side that morning. He popped one of the fruits into his mouth as you now watched him warily, afraid to move, though you were sure he couldn’t be real.

He didn’t look up as he picked through the tub of grapes, inspecting a few, discarding most, collecting the rest in one of his fists. “Don’t tell me you forgot little ol’ me, girly?” He murmured down at the grapes, then glancing up at you expectantly when you didn’t answer, popping another grape between his bright red, scarred lips.

“You’re - you’re really here?” Was all you could think to stammer out, your voice cracking slightly.

The Joker paused as he lifted another grape to his lips instead glancing up at the ceiling, grimacing and squinting as though thinking about this hard. Finally, he pouted slightly and nodded, dropping his head again, “Yep.” He confirmed, tossing back the grape before suddenly pausing in mid chew, seeming to have just realised something. “Wait.” His eyes flickered to you and a devious grin spread across his scars, “Now don’t tell me you’ve been seeing things, doll…” He drawled, the humour clear in his voice as he chewed, eying you with intrigue. You had to look away from that familiar gaze, deciding to keep quiet as you weren’t really sure how to answer. The Joker suddenly burst into to high pitch, hooting laughter, the answer clear from your silence. “And here’s me thinking I was allll alone!” He faux-pouted, “Hey, perhaps we can share!” He exclaimed with a hoot, a manic grin spreading across his face.

You still couldn’t say anything, just staring at the man in half-amazement, half-horror. The Joker – the insane psychopathic terrorist – was stood in your kitchen chatting to you like an old friend.

The clown in question now turned abruptly, from where he had been facing you, to now examining the rest of your tiny kitchen, ignoring your stunned state. “Hmm…” He hummed to himself, moving around the counter edges, randomly pulling open cupboards and drawers nosily, rifling through their contents where he deemed necessary. He found your cutlery drawer, pulling out a few of your smaller sharp knives and slipping them, without a word, into the pocket of his suit jacket, likely adding them to a collection already there.

If he was armed, surely it would make sense for you to be to, right? Even up the odds slightly should it come to it? Though you weirdly didn’t feel unsafe…. You brushed that thought aside for now, you’d think back on that later.

You hand moved instinctively backwards, sweeping your jacket out of the way to reach for the back pocket of your jeans. But your hand came up empty. Shit. That was right, you didn’t like to carry it with you anymore unless really necessary – not since you had felt your mind starting to act up.

You swallowed thickly as the Joker paused in his movements, now slowly turning his head back to face, watching your face for a moment before his eyes flickered to where your hands had frozen behind your back in realisation. It was a characteristic position he knew well, but the look on his face was enough to tell him you had come up empty. He raised his eyebrows at you in question, as though in disbelief you would do something so rude as to attempt to pull a weapon on him.

You parted your lips as thought to grovel and apology, but you said nothing, knowing it was very unlikely to get you anywhere. You knew where your gun was should you need it but getting to it would be difficult in the event the Joker did turn on you. Especially when he was stood only a few feet away from the drawer where it was buried under old bills and papers.

You hadn’t meant to look at the drawer, but you must have made some gesture, because the Joker’s gaze now glanced towards it, then back at you, raising his eyebrows at you once more and grimacing in a ‘What’s this?’ look of interest. You knew there was no use in protesting, so could only watch in silent dread as the criminal now strode causally over the end kitchen drawer, pulling it open and rifling through the contents “Oo hoo hoo.” He giggled to himself as he pulled out a familiar item. “What do we have here…?” He grinned, lifting up your gun as though it was a prime piece of evidence. When he turned back to you though, his face seemed to have sobered up again as he now studied you with interest. He turned to fully face you before casually strolling towards you, pausing behind the kitchen counters that separated you. “Did I ever tell you how I got these scars?” He asked, completely of the blue, gesturing with the muzzle of the gun to his face and the marks that elongated the corners of his mouth . “No?” He asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly when you made no response. You presumed he was going to tell you, but instead he suddenly tossed the gun towards you. You instinctively caught it, looking down at it in surprise, before quickly glancing back up to the Joker again, wary not to take your eyes off him for too long.

“Confused, beautiful?” He asked innocently, widening his eyes expectantly. “Why did I just give a cop a gun?” He asked, reading the question on your face. When you didn’t say anything, both confused and cautious, the Joker simply rolled his eyes as though bored by your lack of response. He then prompted lifted his arms up, exposing his torso clearly to you, his undone suit jacket handing from his extended arms. “Shoot me.” He declared confidently. You frowned in complete confusion. “Go on…” The Joker insisted lowly, though his voice was eager, egging you on. He flicked the strands of his lank green hair out of his face with a shake of his head. “Deep breath there, girly,” He advised, “Clear shot, win the game, claim the prize,” He urged “– personally I’d go for the large fluffy unicorn.” He advised, a wide grin stretching his face as he giggled harshly though still remaining in position for you to pull the trigger and end him. You glanced down at the weapon in your hands in bewilderment. What was the man playing at? He had to be joking, right? “Come on now, sweetheart… I can see it in your eyes…” The Joker purred at you, his eyes hot on yours, watching, seeing something beyond what you hoped you were portraying, “There’s a killer in there…” He murmured hooting almost softly with laughter, a cruel, knowing smile twisting his scars. “You’ve got a gun this time…” He mused darkly, “Now you can use it…” His grin, wide and sinister, as though he was somehow excited at the prospect of a bullet to the torso.

You knew what he was referring to though, as he continually insisted you take the shot. That night back at the MCU again, when the Joker, not stood in front of you, had escaped the interrogation room where he had been held. Sadly, the detective who had been left in the room to guard him was short tempered and too easily baited by the teases of the Joker and he was soon being dragged into the centre of the MCU, a knife at his neck.

The detective had been insistent that his colleagues shoot the Joker, despite the likelihood of his death alongside him. You would have taken that shot without question in that moment if you’d have had your gun on you then - no questions asked. You were always considered ruthless, even in the consideration of a fellow detective’s life.

You had felt the Joker’s eyes on you in that moment, reading your thoughts before the other detectives had handed over the telephone he had been demanding, before the explosion had happened.

And now he wanted you to make good on it all.

The Joker saw the sudden understanding in your face and let his arms drop to his sides. “You would have done it ya know, doll.” He told you, “I could see it.” He nodded wisely. “And yet…” He mused, folding his arms behind his back and taking a large step to move outside of the kitchen, around the barrier of counters separating you from him. “You stayed quiet…” He observed down at the floor, before lifting his eyes, pouting over at you as though almost impressed at this action. “You didn’t follow…” He muttered, his eyes back on the floor as he took another step towards you. You had an urge to step back, put distance between the two of you, but instead you remained in place, your mind full, for a moment, of the memory of his wink at you before you watched his back as he walked away from you. “Hmm…” He nodded in agreement, frowning, his eyes still on the floor as though thinking long and hard about this. “Now, even I know, that’s bad police work.” He pointed out, his eyes flickering up to yours, he eyebrows raised in question once more, biting his lip as though to say this was a rather bad mistake on your part.

You didn’t say anything, your throat dry and you tried, and failed, to relieve this by swallowing.

“Now, this is where I get one of my little hunches, ya see?” The Joker confessed, now seeming to slowly pace in front of you. “I don’t think you were ever actually going to shoot me for – well for me!” He exclaimed, pulling his hands from behind his back and placing them on his chest as he snorted with disbelieving laughter. “No, no, no, no…” He muttered to himself, shaking his head at the floor. “You –“ He cackled to himself again at the humour of the whole situation “- you wanted Mr tough detective dead, didn’t ya?” He posed to you, excitement in his eyes as he watched your face, searching for a sign of confirmation. You tried to keep your face blank, the gun still held loosely in one of your hands. “He rubbed ya up the wrong way one too many times…” The Joker persisted, urging you to confess, “an’ then ya saw the perfect opportunity to – to snuff him!” The Joker suddenly exclaimed, with a bark of laughter. “Me?” He gestured at his chest again, grinning wildly. “Me? I was just a consolation prize, wasn’t?” He grinned, knowing he had you despite your lack of answers.

You weren’t aware that, throughout his pacing, the Joker had steadily edged closer and closer to you. It was only now, as he leant in towards you, that you realised his face was uncomfortably close and you tightened your grip on the gun into your hand. 

“I can see it in your face, ya know?” He told you shamelessly, his eyes darting over your face. You couldn’t help the blush that ran to your cheeks, awkward under this close scrutiny. “Your intrigued by me, aren’t ya…?” He drawled, his eyes finally stopping their scanning of your face, settling on your eyes only, holding you in place. “See, I’m the explanation you’ve been looking for…” He explained, “I’m that lost little piece of you that’s just not quite like the rest, aren’t I? I bet I bring it out of you,” He grinned widely, his eyes searching for the confirmation and he seemed to find it. “You’ve been searching for an answer and…” The Joker stepped back from you and you finally felt a pressure seem to lift off your lungs, able to breathe again, “Here I am.” He said simply, holding out his arms wide again, gesturing at himself, at his unique style of a purple suit and waistcoat, the green patterned shirt just visible where it hung open at his throat, exposing the pale skin.

“And I’m just the gift that keeps on giving, ya see, beautiful…” The Joker drawled with a wide grin, now stepping back towards you again, somehow seeming to get even closer than before, leaning into your personal space to the point that you could see each individual chip in his makeup. You could have stepped back then or tried to shove him away, but you didn’t. He had you captivated again and a part of you wanted to keep listening to him - to see what he had to say – to see why he was here. “This time, sweetheart…” He murmured, now lifting a gloved hand to your cheek, stroking it absentmindedly with his thumb, “I’m gonna let you have a go…” He drawled, now slowly moving to step around you, circling you, allowing his palm to now sweep down your face and under your chin, “Cause a little… A little bit of anarchy.” He suggested, “A little chaos…” He mused to himself, glancing around the room as he continued to circle you, his hand now traveling across your neck, under your hair, and you couldn’t fight back the shiver his gloved fingers were inflicting on you.

“So, whatta ya say, doll?” The Joker stood behind you now, but his words were cooed into you ear, his breath brushing your skin and triggering another shivery sensation. “Fancy giving me a little hand this time…?” He mused, and you could easily imagine the mischievous look that now twinkled in his eyes, though you refused to turn. “I can bump you up from general bystander to active recruit…” He continued to persuade you, his voice smooth and low, almost sultry.

You still had yet to say anything to any of this though, fighting with yourself. You were a cop - had been for years. And you were a good cop. You didn’t take bribes. You stuck to the law. You only used deadly force where absolutely necessary.

Yet, despite all of this, that poisoned, corrupted part of your mind was begging to say yes. And that part of you was strong now - stronger than it had ever been - thanks to the Joker now stood next to you smoothly purring more toxins into your mind.

“See, dolly, this is the part where you say something.” The Joker teased impatiently in your ear, his warm breath back on the underside of your ear. “Hm?” He asked pleasantly, prowling around where you stood so he was directly in front of you again. “Ya know, I’d settle for a simple nod if your old golden cop soul won’t let you speak.” He grinned shamelessly, tilting his head and raising his brows expectantly. His smile faded when you still didn’t say anything, “Oh, come on, honey…” He growled in annoyance at your continual hesitation, “Sometime today?” He snarled, “I have a few hundred gallons of gasoline I’m late to pick up.” He muttered moodily.

You swallowed apprehensively. “You killed Rachel.” You observed with a mutter. It might seem completely out of the blue, but her death had also played on your mind since the night of the MCU explosion. You hadn’t known her well, but you did like her – she was a good woman – did nothing wrong. Could you really aid her killer?

“Not this again…” The Joker growled in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “There’s a lot of death’s I’d happily claim my name to, sweetheart, but Miss Dawes? I didn’t pull a trigger – I didn’t even place the explosives.” He held up his hands innocently. “No, that was you.” He accused, “Oh – wait – you sat that one out as well, didn’t you?” He grinned cruelly, “You were too busy letting me slip through Gordon’s fingers…” He let out a laugh as he now threw himself backwards to land on the sofa behind him, bouncing slightly on the worn cushions. “Tell me, my dear,” He grinned, kicking his feet up onto your coffee table, crossing his legs at the ankle, completely at his ease, “how did you ever earn the praise that follows you and your little title?” He smirked.

When you had nothing to say to that, he glanced up at you. “You’re quiet one, aren’t ya? Good…” He mused, turning his eyes away again, thinking on something it seemed.

“When did you have enough?” The Joker suddenly, also making you jump because you weren’t expecting it, his eyes still staring blankly in front of him, not seeing anything, his face completely serious, almost blank, not humour left. “One too many traffic duties?” He mused, “Babysitting the mafia low-lives?” He tried, his eyes still ahead as though he was just talking to himself. You barely noticed your legs finally moving from where you had been stood for so long, the faint protest of cramp in your muscles. “What point did you just… get bored…?” He sighed heavily as though this question had more meaning then you could hope to know.

He apparently didn’t expect an answer from you this time.

“You know, sweetheart,” The Joker finally glanced over at you and you were vaguely aware you had, at some point moved to perch on the arm of the chair across from him. “I was told once - by a dear friend of mine… - that I was all alone in my world…” He mused with a thoughtful pout, glancing away in thought “That there was no one ugly like me… But maybe,” His eyes flickered back to yours, “just maybe there’s hope for me…” His eyes roamed your face in interest again, as though he was seeing you for the first time.

The next thing you knew, the Joker was pushing himself to his feet again, stepping past the coffee table towards you once more. His face was still blank, no emotion in his cold eyes as he stood directly in front of you, too close again, yet this time you not great discomfort from it. You kept your eyes on his even when you saw him raise his hand out of the corner of your eye, placing it gently on your cheek again. This time he allowed it to stay there, lightly tracing the shadows under your eyes with his thumb and you longed to do the same to him, though didn’t dare. His eyes trailed to your lips and for once the dark irises looked almost warm and comforting, like there was a soul behind them. He began to lean in then and you felt your breath hitch, your mouth becoming dry as his breath brushed your upper lip. “A healthy dose of insanity makes all these choices so much easier…” He hummed lightly, continuing to absentmindedly stroke your skin, all the while leaning in closer, leaning slightly to the side, his cheek next to your exposed one, never breaking the tender swiping motion on your skin with his hand. “So what, my dear, is it gonna take,” You felt his breath slide across your throat and you couldn’t breathe, “to push you over the edge…?” He murmured seductively into your ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I’m tired, and I have no idea what I’ve just written, so there’s probably a billion mistakes and no plot, but, hey, have a random conversation between the reader and Joker! *shrug*
> 
> Hope you enjoy it a bit anyway!

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly suppose to be a drabble, and it kind of still is… just a really long one. This was also suppose to just be one part, but I got to this point and thought it seemed like a good place to pause as I still have another 2000+ words to edit, and more (inevitably to write). So, I’ll leave you with this for now, and try to get the next part out tomorrow if I can’t manage it tonight (I’m once again living off an hour of sleep…)
> 
> Due to the fact I’m sleep deprived, I would also like to apologise if this piece makes absolutely no sense. Like I say, it was suppose to be a drabble, so a plot is a hard thing to find here and I made it up at 5am this morning whilst watching The Dark Knight haha


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